


Tony Is A Battered Kitten, Which Loki Did Not Expect

by Symmet



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Right?, WHAT MORE CAN YOU ASK FOR, also Tony is beat up a bit much, and there are giant pig minotaurs, in which Tony and Loki have been kidnapped, sorry bab, thats a thing, the intent of manipulation goes awry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 15,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symmet/pseuds/Symmet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you have ever wondered what Tony Stark and Loki being kidnapped would look like, here is ur chance. Take every opportunity to avoid it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Tony Has Awful Observational Skills When Drugged

**Author's Note:**

> A recent idea of mine.

Tony wakes with a groan. His head is throbbing, and for one bright, bittersweet moment, he’s sure he’s recovering from a late night - early morning - party, that his Mjolnr sized migraine is from alcohol, and his aching body is from partying too hard, like the quote un quote good old days.

Then he cracks an eye open and discovers the floor his cheek has likely been pressed to for hours is cement, there’s a little pool of dried blood by his head, which doesn’t bode well in the way of a concussion, and the word “Jarvis” dies on his lips.

He pushes himself up from where he’d been laying face down on the floor, immediately regretting the sloshing of his head’s insides. He’d curl up again if he didn’t think sudden movements would exacerbate the problem. He can tell, in this moment, just how fragile and human his body truly is, like a glass full of wine, and any crack could prove fatal.

Which reminded him, where the hell was his suit?

“What the f-“ He begins, but he’s hushed from the shadows to his right.

His vision is slightly blurry, and he’s squinting because the cold grey light filtering in through the bars of the prison room is ridiculously painful on his head. He turns very slowly and slightly to face the shadows.

“You’re finally awake.” The person whispers, “About time.”

“I’m gonna try again.” Tony says, voice now lowered, “What the everlasting fuck?”

He probably knew them, or at least he hopes so, he just couldn’t distinguish their voice over the buzzing in his ears.

“You were drugged. We both were. I am certain they used the same thing on you as on me, which is probably why you’re not handling it well, although the doses were likely less for you. You threw up before you passed out.” He thinks a blurry arm gestures towards a corner of the room where, yes, it looks like something _had_ been thrown up. How pleasant.

“Right.” Tony mumbled, putting a hand to his forehead, and finding he did, indeed, have a fever, “You think it has shellfish as a main ingredient? I might be allergic to shellfish. Man, you’d think a kidnapper would do more research on potential victims’ allergies. No way to get ransom money if they die from peanuts.”

The person remains silent, obviously not one to participate in his stress and slightly panic induced humor, “Well I’ve had my share of kidnappings, and there is very little likelyhood that this can be worse than the last time.”

The voice very quietly agrees. 

Tony’s got a sinking feeling, but he can’t for the life of him think why. It’s like the moment he’d been told this was a kidnapping, his brain had realized something but forgotten to let him in on it. Shit.

“What do you remember?” The voice says carefully as Tony slowly edges himself out of the direct, painful light until his back is against a cool wall.

“Honestly? I don’t… the last thing I remember is… I don’t know, I was in my kitchen. _Shit!_ ” The sudden and explosive admission, though whispered, caught both of them off guard.

“What?” The other person across the room hissed.

“I left my omelette on the stove. Man, I hope Jarvis turned it off.” Tony said in a daze.

The person across the room stayed almost worryingly silent.

“What?” Tony said, forgetting he was supposed to keep his voice down, “What is it?”

“Shhhh, nothing. I’m sure your robot didn’t let your eggs burn.” It said exasperatedly, almost annoyed, but willing to do whatever it took to keep Tony quiet.

“So why do we need to whisper?” Tony began, just as one of the cell doors was shoved open with tremendous force.

“ _That’s_ why!” The person hissed as something large and extremely ugly walked into the dim light. Giant hands reached out and they were each hauled up by a giant, hairy…minotaur thing?? Tony wasn’t sure. He was more kept up on astrological thermodynamics than any yeti nonsense.

Still, not your run of the mill kidnapping. Fan-fucking-tastic. Tony couldn’t catch a break, could he?


	2. In Which There Is A Warning for Kitten Abuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Pig Minotaur Apparently Add An "i" Instead Of "s" For Plurals

The ugly man beast thing grabbed them both by their necks, which was just really rude and uncalled for, but at least he wasn’t choking, and Tony was glad he couldn’t tell just _how_ ugly their host was, because from the blurry image he was getting, it could only be bad.

“You are our prisoneri, ya? You run, we will cut you down, find replacementi, ya? Be good, you will not die. Be bad, you will. Hope your friendi in high place will save you, otherwise you die anyway, ya?” The creature guffawed, a whole shaking motion that made Tony want to vomit again, because his neck was starting to cramp and it was worse than a second rate rollercoaster on his poor head.

Then, very unceremoniously, they were dropped back on their asses, which hurt like hell on Tony’s aching bones, _or boni_ , he guesses.

“Who are you again?” He says to the ground where he still hasn’t recovered from his fall, “And who are our friendi again?”

Maybe the creature doesn’t like his tone, which was petulant, or maybe it was just smarter than he gave it credit for.

“Asking questioni is being bad, be bad, you will die, ya?” It said, nudging him roughly in the leg.

With a slight groan, Tony pushed himself back into a sitting position, where his eyes had cleared just enough for him to see that yes, indeed, the creature had split hooves. Of course it did.

“Ya.” He says, smiling up sweetly at a very ugly boar face.

It clouds for a moment, perhaps trying to decide whether he has an attitude (which means its not familiar with him at all) or if he’s being docile. Then it makes the correct assumption to always go with rebellious, so it leans down and smacks him across the jaw, hard enough that his head hits the wall.

Tony’s pretty sure he even hears the other voice give a slight intake of breath at that, which means it looks just as bad as it feels, which is something along the likes of _iewoioieioeioweieiririrvbbvcnmmmmmmmmmmnnnnngg_.

He can’t even think “ _Ow_ ”, it just hurts, and he curls up on the floor and doesn’t move when the giant turns and exits, slamming the stone door closed behind it. His head is feels like its white hot and his ears are ringing and he can’t see and it hurts, hurts, hurts and very far away from the pain he is wondering the velocity and force with which he hit that wall, and how much blood and hair is sticking to the the stone now, and the size of the hole in his head, but its a faint thought, dying the longer it hurts, hands gingerly cupping the shape but not the form of his head, too afraid to touch, just wishing he could offer some idea of comfort.


	3. In Which Tony Also Apparently Has Awful Social Skills When Suffering A Concussion

Several hours later, Tony has - at least as much as he can without any outside help, recovered from the blunt force trauma of being smacked on a wall enough to coherently think again. After a certain amount of time he could carry a thought well enough, but the pain was still there, sluggish but sharp. He was still afraid to move, but at some point he manages to sit up against the wall without even really being conscious of it.

It’s all he can manage not to look at the place on the wall behind him where he’s sure theres blood, because his stomach is empty and he has absolutely no intention to wretch up air and bile and spittle just so he can make his head throb harder.

The shape is vaguely there in the shadows of his… companion? He's like ninety percent sure it's male, and that's about as far as Tony’s very beleaguered head can figure. He also knows they know each other but he figures the more they talk, the closer he’ll get to remembering who it is, since that's normally how he works through having a name or thought on the tip of his tongue.

He goes through various possibilities.

It’s not Steve, who would have gotten the tar kicked out of him, too. Definitely not Banner, not in this situation, who would have kicked the taur out the minotaur. Maybe Clint, but nah, he would have asked if Tony was okay by now. Maybe Fury, though he’d be getting more flack for breathing or something by now.

Oh well, it can’t be incredibly pressing, at least not compared to the major concussion he's definitely got.

Tony slid down along the wall until he was lying down again. "I feel like shit." he mumbles to the stale air.

"That _was_ the desired effect, I'm sure." the voice says almost emotionlessly.

Tony feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, because that voice is familiar, and not in a good way.

He sticks one arm up, thumb up, "I killed man with this thumb. What are you in for?"


	4. In Which Loki Makes A Plan That Will Definitely Backfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki's perspective on this turn of events.

The comment went completely over Loki's head, of course, because he didn't know anything about jail jokes or Ratatouille.

He just accurately guessed that Stark was saying nothing. Stark did that, offered useless drivel at choice moments. He was an expert at aiming it, as well, but by now Loki had realized what Stark said meant less than it was supposed to hurt.

"Say something useful, please, or conducive to getting out." is his response.

Tony groans, arm falling back to his side, "Dammit Loki what are you even doing here?"

Loki huffs, "I'd tell you if I thought you were in any state to absorb it into that fragile, human head of yours. But at the moment I would rather not waste my breath."

He would really prefer to leave the human to his weakness and mortality, but where Stark is a master of speech, Loki is a master of the mind.

He knows hostage situations can cause great bonds to form in the human psyche. It shouldn't be too hard to get a monopoly on Stark's feelings, and therefore have a nice piece of strife for the Avengers in the future, if he could make Stark hesitate for just a moment in front of the team.

Meanwhile, if Stark died, he would inevitably be blamed, regardless of the truth, which would work oppositely in his favor, unifying the team against him.

Which meant he had little choice in this matter.


	5. In Which Tony Is Probably Dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Tony

Tony’s shock at his cell mate being Loki lived about as long as in interest in… in… he couldn’t even think of anything. Shit. He must have a really _bad_ concussion.

He giggled slightly, “I have a really _bad_ concussion.”

Loki was silent for a moment before scooting closer to Tony. Tony might have resisted or shooed him away if he had the physical or mental strength, but he had neither. His eyes drooped closed before Loki had even come into the light.

“Do not fall asleep.” Loki says sharply, “ _Stark._ ”

Tony’s eyes flicker open again, and he smiles vaguely at the fuzzy form of one unamused Loki peering down at him.

“Awww, he cares.” Tony says, cracking a smile, “Deep down I knew you didn’t mean it when you threw me out of that window.”

Loki’s expression did not change, if anything, his eyebrows furrowed further as he gently tilted Tony’s head to examine the large wound.

“How bad is it, doc?"

“A flesh wound.” Loki said, eyes narrowed, “Though one that should be treated immediately.”

Tony chuckled under his breath, “Wow, that bad, huh?"

“Can you sit up?” Loki asks urgently, ignoring the previous comment.

“Yes. Whether I will or not is a completely different - Ah, ah, ow ow ow.” Tony said as mid sentence Loki had grabbed him by the head - avoiding the areas matted with blood - and lifted it, forcing his aching body to follow. 

The pain was extreme. Tony didn’t mind so much that he was getting teary in front of Loki, but he had kind of hoped it wasn’t in a jail cell with Loki cradling his head in his lap.

Tony opened his mouth, “What are you -" but Loki shushed him in annoyance.

And then Loki began to hum.


	6. In Which Loki Has A Lot Of Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then back to Loki

Frigga had taught Loki some rudimentary magics when he was young, but he had other ideas of magic, for even then Thor had teased him for being weak, so he begged to be versed in other, more dangerous things that would gain his Father’s attention, and she had accepted.

When he had been housed in the prison in Asgard, Frigga had visited with her magics, and though he’d pretended to ignore her, she had spoken on the magics of his own people, the Frost Giants, how his own magics could be stronger when he admitted his heritage, took advantage of it, for the magic of the frost giants had been refined for centuries until it perfectly suited its people.

He had listened to every word she spoke, drunk it in, though he’d turned his face from her, if only to pretend to himself that he did not care, the both of them with tears in their eyes.

Now, Loki has little choice. Stark is dying, and unless Loki wants Captain America as his company to replace Stark, he has to admit to the power of his heritage, an action he was loathe to do, since he considered them so inferior to those of Asgard.

They were no less brutish than Thor could be, war mongering and blood hungry. He fit no better in their society than he had with Thor, but at least Asgardian magic, for all that it was considered feminine by its culture, was sophisticated, golden.

Frost Giant magic belonged to their shamans, who wrote crude patterns in the earth and sang their magic to life with simple rhyme in their ancient language.

Which was what he was doing for the human beside him now.


	7. In Which Tony Totally Trips Out On Frost Giant Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd back to Tony

Tony couldn’t help but let his eyes close. The noise coming from Loki was kind of weird, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was actually kind of soothing, which was a very nice change from everything else that had transpired since he’d woken up.

He fell unconscious, but his dreams were sporadic and on the edge of awareness.

_He drifted in and out of the cell and a howling blizzard where something in the storm chanted with glowing eyes of red. It was never more than a blurry shape, obscured by the constantly moving flurries of white across his vision, and before he could follow, he would be looking at the ceiling of the cell, the snow still floating around him, and then the grey stone would turn to white again, and he'd catch those red eyes watching him._

_He wasn’t afraid in the dream, even though he knew it could - would - kill him._

_But when he reached out towards it, he woke up._


	8. In Which Loki Still Doesn't Realize Tony Is A Kitten

When Tony blinked his eyes open, the only reason he didn’t stiffen in shock was probably because he was already stiff all over already.

By the time his vision sharpened, however, he’d already realized what he was staring up at was a very blue Loki. Something twanged in his heart, an ache from the dream he’d woken up from, but he was already forgetting most of it as the snow faded from the edges of his sight.

His arm rose almost of it’s own accord, startling Loki as he reached up towards him, mumbling softly, more to himself, “I didn’t know you were blue.”

Loki, who had been staring off into the distance, looked down sharply in alarm at Tony, and then the blue receded from his skin and he was back to looking human.

But Tony had held those eyes for one moment.

Red eyes that made his heart shiver.

It was only when Loki shifted and dumped Tony - half gently - on the ground from where he’d been cradled in Loki’s lap that Tony realized Loki had been - previously - stroking his hair, because the space where that hand had been was now warmer, and he almost protested it.

“You are awake.” Loki stated, not meeting Tony’s eyes, and Tony got the very distinct feeling he wasn’t supposed to have seen Loki like that, as the god retreated backwards, “About time.”

“You said that to me already,” Tony murmured softly, eyes now on Loki’s face, which he realized had several scars that had started to heal, "Remember?"

 _Evidently he went down with a fight when they tried to kidnap him,_ some part of him recognized.

"I _remember_ you running your mouth with a creature that places little to no value on your life and having _me_ fix it." Loki says sharply.

Tony swallowed hollowly, tasting the emptiness of his mouth, then sat up in shock as he put a hand to his head and looked at it.

There was still matted blood in his hair, but there was only a dull ache where he was sure a major concussion had made its home.

He blinked up at Loki, who had crossed back to his position at the other wall in the shadows, silent.

“Why’d you heal me?” Tony asked, “Was I mistaken in the impression that you think all humans are a waste of time and should be subjected to your will?"

Loki remained silent.

A small smile lit Tony's lips, "Or do you place little to more value on my life?" He says softly.


	9. In Which Loki Makes The First Of Many Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki

“I won’t validate that with a response.”

Tony smiled to himself. _Bait…_

It was only because the comment was so infuriating that Loki bothered to answer.

He should have refrained. He’d thought he had more control that that.

_Hooked._

Tony shrugged, “Answer, don’t answer, validate, don’t validate, it’s okay Loki, your secret is safe with me. I know the truth.” He grinned, and Loki wished fervently that he had let Stark bleed out.

Loki knew better than to answer, he really, truly, had figured the annoying human out by now.

It was what Stark did - open his mouth and empty small, stupid things onto the world until he got a response. His commentary was neither insightful nor intelligent, it was simple and basic and rudimentary, the kind of talk Loki refused to participate in, far below his own capabilities as a god, who in comparison offered up only the most insightful and enlightening of remarks.

“You’re an idiot."

And that was his _first_ mistake. So was everything else that followed.


	10. In Which Tony Openly Discusses Science Bros

A wide grin split the human’s face, followed by a short laugh.

Loki sighs in disgust, “You were _**dying**_ only moments ago. Does that mean nothing to you?”

Tony sighed, leaning back against the wall, echoing Loki’s own movements, the god realized a moment later with some annoyance. 

“Do you know how many times that I’ve been dying or I was just about to die, or I _did_ die but the Hulk yelled me back to life?” Tony asks rhetorically.

Loki rolled his eyes, an action that escaped Tony as Loki was completely in shadow.

Tony gave a slight, awkward cough when Loki refused to play along and decided to get straight to the point, “Thanks.” He murmured.

Loki shook his head, “I _only_ did it because they might make Rogers my new roommate, and he’s simply unbearable.” Loki shuddered, “I refuse to suffer that.”

Tony chuckled, “Amen. Capitan Knickers In A Bunch wouldn’t be my first choice in a roommate, either.”

Loki snorted, “And who, exactly, of the Avengers _would_ you prefer to bunk with?”

“Banner, probably.”

Loki gave a short laugh, “The Hulk? Really? Is that safe for someone as infuriating as you?”

“He’s got a real sweet disposition when he’s not green. _And_ he speaks science, which is the least I can ask for in company.” Tony shrugs, ignoring the previous comment.

Loki nodded slightly, wondering how he had come to this topic.

It lapsed into silence for only a moment before Stark said, “So, can you fill me in? The last thing I remember I was making an omelette, so I’m considerably out of the loop in this whole impromptu hostage thing.”

Loki shifted, “Well, if you’ve ever wondered what we have in common, Stark, it would have to be Thor.”


	11. in Which Tony Surmises The Things He And Loki Have In Common

Tony made a face from across the room, “Really? That’s the first thing you think of? What about the hair, or the eyes…” he lapsed into silence as he remembered Loki’s true visage, the red eyes like rubies, and Loki’s hands clenched by his side.

He did _not_ like talking about his true form, and it was stupid of him to have forgotten that it would become apparent while he was working Frost Giant magic. Stupid, foolish.

 _So stupid_.

And if Tony wanted to keep all of his fingers, he wouldn’t be stupid or foolish and press the matter.

Luckily, Tony has already moved on to other possible connections.

“Or the daddy issues? Or the problems with authority? Or the general ability of snark? No? _Thor_? Really? Boo.” Tony continued, sticking a hand out with a downturned thumb, shaking his head at the wasted potential.

“Yes, well, they - mistakenly - believe that as his brother, Thor will want to save me. And you, as a companion in “his” Avengers -“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. He’s considered the boss? _I’m_ not even considered the boss - and I pay for _everything_. Not fair, I’m gonna have to call in a judge.” , came the whine, which Loki ignored.

“Yes well, don’t let them know how much I _don’t_ mean to Thor, otherwise they’ll realize they don’t need me at all.” Loki says sharply and softly, “I’d appreciate some delicacy in that matter on your part.”

Tony snorted, “I have been threatened by Thor almost as many times as I’ve been threatened by you. How did they even decide on their targets? Why the hell do they think we’re so special?”

“Well, they want Earth.” Loki said, “Which is under his protection, assumably. They grabbed two possible hostages and hoped everything would work out. I’m the only so called relative that wasn’t in Asgard and thus had the least security available to repel them with. _You_ were the most human of the Avengers and the one with the least physical training. To them brains is less than brawn, and either way without your toys you might as well be nothing.”

Stark narrowed his eyes at the last comment, but let it slide, “And you know all of this because…”

Loki glared, “I wasn’t the only one planning to claim and dominate Earth. I had rivals, and these were some of the riff raff that managed - _somehow_ \- to fall into that category.”

Stark sat still for a while, hands in his lap, tracing his tendons.

Eventually he groaned, sitting up further to stretch, “Man, we are gonna get _so_ bored down here. I don’t know about you, but most people can only stand to be around me for a couple hours at a time, and that’s if I keep the talking to a minimum.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not standing, then.” Loki mutters, privately agreeing.


	12. In Which Loki and Tony Discuss The Usefulness Of Werewolves And Or Vampires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little longer than usual ~ ;)

Stark managed to control himself for a while. A whole two or so hours.

Loki is sure that must be a record.

And the signs that something is coming become readily evident. Tony starts fidgeting more and more, the hands especially, and it’s a full 10 minutes that Loki is prepared for Stark to start speaking.

“So, like, why don’t you just magic yourself out of here?”

Loki grimaces at the informality of the statement, but by now he’d gotten used to Stark’s… way of talking with others. He contemplated for a moment dismembering the conversation before it had begun, but it wasn’t as if he had anything better to do at the moment.

He scooted forward into the light and then lifted both of his hands to his collar, which he pulled down to reveal a metal ring fastened tightly around his neck. Every couple of seconds through a break in the metal glowed an orangish light, which caused Loki to grimace slightly. The skin was turning purple in some areas where it was too tight, not his true skin color, but something uglier and browner, closer to a bruise.

He had resisted when they tried to put it on.

Tony bites the insides of his mouth, feeling somewhat empathetic.

When Loki realizes this, his grimace deepens and with a flick of his wrists the band is hidden again, out of sight but not out of mind.

Tony gets the strong feeling that Loki resented looking weak in front of others, a self-preservative instinct he had succumbed to many, many, _many_ times in his own life. And probably would again. The act of apologizing for past transgressions was hard, it felt like submitting to someone else, a strain on his own independent spirit.

Which made things both a lot clearer and a lot more complicated for how he was going to act around Loki from now on.

“But you healed me… did that…” He hesitated to say “hurt”, because it occurred to him that he and Thor can from the same, slightly war mongering, definitely masculinity-approving, possibly magic-hating culture.

Which meant Loki was the nerd who’d been ostracized by an entire planet of jocks.

Loki narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t know what Stark was getting at. “It seals most higher functioning magics. What I used to heal you was a crude chant divined by the Jotun. It’s like a …” Loki paused as he tried to think up a relevant Midgardian analogy, “A device that blocks your… “wifi”. I used the computer itself but not the internet.”

Tony tilted his head, “So you _can_ use magic? I’m confused.”

Loki sneered, “I am used to a… more advanced type of magic that I have honed to act like a second skin. It developed as if a natural part of me, but no Jotun is born with illusion manipulation, a gilt tongue, shape-shifting, astral projection, molecular rearrangement, eldritch energy blasts, illusion casting, flight, telepathy, hypnosis, or teleportation.” He listed them off as if powerful accomplishments, but Tony had no real context for how difficult those were to master. Probably very?

He nodded at Loki, giving him a pseudo thumbs up because he’s sure Loki would not take well to any genuine approval of his accomplishments. He usually didn’t, anyways.

Loki shifted uncomfortably. If he was going to escape this place, quite possibly Stark would be more burden than aid, but he would be blamed in the event of the human’s death, so he would have to deal with it anyway. In which case Stark’s help would be needed, and thus his own limits would have to be explained.

“All of this has been taken from me. Anything I had to train in, that was not an inherent power or ability I had to teach myself, regardless of any initial aptitude in it gone.” He did not look at Tony as he said this, gaze cast to the side.

Tony gets the feeling Loki is feeling the same way he feels right now without any equipment available to him.

Helpless.

“So what _can_ you do?” Tony said, seriously.

Loki sighed, “I retain my strength - at least compared to you, though less so to the brutes keeping us here. I have a natural immunity to most terrestrial disease or viruses, and a very active metabolism that allows me to heal quickly.”

Tony nods, “And the Jotun magic?”

Loki makes an ugly face, “I have little to no formal training in that. All I have are some basic lectures my m-… that _Frigga_ gave me while I was imprisoned on Asgard. It’s a wild, lowly magic.”

Tony bites the inside of his cheeks, deciding to ask about the whole 'being imprisoned by his family' situation another time, “So ice magic or no ice magic?”

Loki glares, mouth turning into a thin line “If possible, _no_. The clamp is more meant for an Asgardian than a Jotun, but because I was raised as one as opposed to the other, I might as well be Asgardian. Nevertheless, it can’t target inherent powers that my race grants me. It can dampen it, and completely annihilate any spoken powers from other magical sources I would draw from around me, but at the end of the day, _yes, I can do ice magic._ ”, his tone had gotten dangerous and short.

Tony shrugged it off, “Cool. Anything else?”

Loki hesitated. “Some magics would get through,” he admitted, “but certainly none available to us now.”

Tony raised his eyebrows at him, “Yeah?”

Loki sighed, his love of magic winning out over cutting Stark off. Already his plans to bend Stark’s will unto him had slipped away into the recesses of his mind.

“Bond magic - which strengthens magic between two individuals, would likely go undetected by this. Great channelers - like the Norn stones or some other items imbued with a great amount of power -“

“Like the tesseract.” Stark cut in, curiously.

Loki stilled, remembering the itch of the gem’s magic along the insides of his consciousness, convincing him of what he wanted - _what he he had **. Thor dead. The Earth and all it’s mortal population his. The throne of As -**_

He shook the memory away.

“Yes. Especially that. It would overpower this flimsy block in a moment. Also, curses placed on me that granted me other abilities. Those would likely not be hindered by it, as they are of much lower caliber than the usual -“

“Curses? Like, what, exactly?” Stark cut in again, eyes bright with some familiar light, the hunger for knowledge that Loki so craved, himself.

“Like a… what do you call it?” Loki snapped his fingers and paused for a moment before he remembered, “Werewolf. Those." He punctuated this with his index finger, " Or, hmm… vampires. Those are examples of weak, ignorable curses.” He said.

Tony leaned back, seeing that Loki was about magic the same way he was about science, “Well, if worst comes to worst.” He says, just the smallest smile on his face.

Loki snorted, “I would sooner turn _you_ into a werewolf, Stark. Besides, the magic would cancel itself on me without the right items and prerequisites. Certain times of day, weather, animals and spirits that would need to be present -”

“Semantics.” Tony mumbled with a grin, eyes already closed.


	13. In Which Tony Is Kind Of In Thor's Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Thor's perspective_

When Thor had received word from the Avengers that Tony Stark - though one of the more irritating of the Midgardian race - had been taken, he immediately made plans with Heimdal to get to the other realm as fast as possible. It would take several hours, what with the Bifrost's use being restricted due to it's barely functioning state, but it was functioning, which was all Thor could hope for. That and hopefully that he wouldn't be hit by anymore cars once he got to the planet.

Unfortunately, his father forbade him to go until Loki was found - as Loki had been missing for several weeks, and the Alfather was growing testy, and he took that out on Thor. At first he took to dismissing Thor when their words got heated - " _Loki_ is a skilled god who nearly destroyed an entire planet. The mortal can wait."  
"That is the _point_ , Allfather, he _cannot_ wait. What to Loki may be a moment is to them a lifetime. He may be dead for all I know."  
"But Loki, we know cannot be. Do not waste your time on some foolish venture while he yet stalks the shadows, stalks _this family_! Unless you are protecting him!"  
" _Loki_ deserved his punishment! And I would see him returned to his cage, but I will **not** stand by while -"  
" _ **Yes**_ , you will! Under the command of your king. Now go. And do not return without word of your brother."

Thor would scowl, make an awful face, and thunder out of the throne room, his displeasure echoing along the arches long after he was gone. Eventually Frigga had to remind Odin that if Loki didn't wish to be found, it was better to battle an army of bilgesnipe rather than look for him, and analogy Thor believed could be translated to something along the lines of "looking for a needle in a haystack", except in this case the haystack was the entire universe and the needle could illusion itself into other forms at will, at which point things became gregariously complicated. He knew his father, but he also knew Loki. If Loki was hiding, he was hiding where they would not find him. If Odin feared he was in the castle, he was on Midgard. If Odin feared he was on Midgard, he was in the castle. They could do nothing about what Loki was doing until Loki felt the need to reveal himself, and knowing Loki, any of his overthought and complicated schemes needed more than several weeks to complete - if not years.

But Odin would not hear it, seeking to use the state of Stark to some perverse effect of encouragement. _"You can go to your friend's house when you've finished your homework."_ , Tony would have said. Would have, but he was missing. Would have, but he might be dead. Thor did try to throw himself into searching for Loki, but he had already come to a stop, already run into an invisible obstacle, a barrier of ignorance. They had nothing to track, nothing to learn, nothing to look for. He had vanished, with the help of an erroneous alarm being raised on the opposite side of the dungeons. An illusion of his, likely, what an unfamiliar tale, and slipped out without notice, again, _so_ unlike him, then disappeared with the utmost subtlety, _truly one of the strangest things to hear about Loki_. Of course, his father was about as open to the idea of Thor leaving as he was convinced by sarcasm, which was a pity, since Thor had thought he'd begun to master the art of Tony Stark's people.

And still they had nothing.

Three days after being contacted by Earth, but still forbidden from going, Thor finally realized the depravity of the situation when he found himself conversing with an Asgardian dove on the off chance that it was Loki. "You could have been more subtle, you know, when you tried to have me killed on earth. That was ill-concived and I still don't -" It was only when it flew off in the middle of his sentence that he realized the foolishness that Loki's escaping prison had forced upon all of them. Tip toeing through the castle, looking under pots. Why would Loki stay? Revenge? Maybe, but nothing any time soon. 

The way his father was acting, the paranoia threatening to cripple him, may as well have been the best revenge Loki could have enacted, without so much as lifting a finger. Well, perhaps a foot, if only to leave.

He left the balcony and furiously made his way to the throne room to argue with his father - again. He knew it would not be wise, but he saw no other way to confront the situation, to mend it. He was not smooth or delicate like Loki, he did not have his tongue, fashioned for convincing others to shape themselves to his desires. He said what he meant, and meant it, no hidden thoughts between his words, _"A real Dr.Seuss right here, huh?"_ , Stark had said once.

Perhaps by chance - or more likely some motherly intuition, no doubt - Frigga was in the hallway outside the throne room, and intercepted him, long aware of how stubborn both her son and husband could be, and had thus awaited his eventual attempt to argue his father into submission - something neither of them had ever succeeded in doing to the other.

His severe expression softened when he saw her standing there, peaceful among the columns, "Mother," he said gently, "Is the Allfather in? I desire to speak with him."  
"Go to them." she said gently, smiling up at him, "Loki is not here. You will find him some day, but not because Odin orders it to be so. Go to them."  
Thor grinned back at her, "Despite the fact that to break my King's orders is punishable by banishment or even death?"  
She winked, "That's how he knows you're serious. Go on, quickly, enough of your time has been wasted here as it is."

Some relief came to Thor and his shoulders, previously braced as if a bull planning to throw himself at a wall, relaxed. She dipped her head, her gentle smile apparent, and he came closer.

He bent to kiss her forehead and she chuckled, then became somber "Thor, remember Loki has not been himself of late. We know that the infinity stone was used to great effect upon his mind to control him - even if those thoughts were already there in some form. I fear it has left him weakened, unable to trust anyone he knew, let alone anyone new. I do not say to forget his transgressions, but forgive his flaws. They are all he yet knows of himself." 

Thor sagged, but murmured his consent. He turned swiftly and made his way to Heimdall - who would no doubt sense both his intent and know it was against the King's command - and thought of how best to handle that situation as he went.

Soon he would know Frigga had already arranged for that. She bent forward to smell some curling honeysuckle, and laughed sweetly and indulgently.


	14. In Which Loki Realizes Tony Probably Has ADHD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Loki's Perspective_

They were sitting in the same places they had been, quietly contemplating nothingness as best as each could. Loki had practiced and perfected the art in the dungeons of Asgard. He knew how to let his mind wander, though it was admittedly harder with the ever-present sting of the collar around his neck, pulsing regularly.

Yes, but at least he had a distraction.

Tony Stark was a strange man. He did not seem to be built for stillness. Something Loki would note, then discard absentmindedly, his plans to manipulate Tony muddled by his own strong dislike of the man. He knew how to be sweet, coy, soft. He _knew_. But he could never really bring himself to say kind things to Stark. He was repugnant, repulsive, rude.

Completely at home with his flaws, content to force them on others.

And Loki would remind himself that if they survived this (likely, considering his own track record, less likely considering Tony’s, he supposed), he would want Stark’s protection, even if he didn’t need to use it (highly dependent on where his brother currently was), if only for the sake of seeing Stark look at him in hopeless despair.

Of course, Tony seemed to be reduced to that state simply by having a lack of things to do with his hands.

Which made the idea of tormenting him lose most of its appeal - how could something be entertaining, not to mention engrossing, if it was not a challenge? Tony would get up, walk around, swagger to one side of the little room, bend to inspect the wall, arms clasped behind his back, garner nothing of relevant interest, catch Loki glaring at him, and sullenly retreat to his sitting place.

Loki did not want Stark’s inability to be idle to catch the unwanted attention of their imprisoners. And if Stark did and was beaten up again as a result, Loki would _definitely_ not help him. Not at all. Most likely. Probably.

Tony gave a slight groan and slid down the wall. Almost immediately they heard scraping on the other side of the door. Long rusted hinges squealed and a small metal latch clicked as a metal plate was lifted and a large, beady eye glared at them through it.

Fantastic. Stark had done it again.

After a pause of looking at the two very complacent prisoners, the plate was dropped back into place, and heavy footfalls retreated.

It seemed deathly silent, but Loki was suddenly aware of a distant trickling noise. Wonderful.

Then the shake of massive feet returned, and the door was opened.

Stark had scooted himself back up against the wall, eyes fixed on the boar creature shifting into the room. Loki made a low “tch!” sound to catch Tony’s attention, and shook his head while pointing to his face. _Do not look at it_.

Tony seemed to get the idea and lowered his head, nervously watching the great, wretched elephant feet approach. He visibly tensed the closer the beast got, huffing and snuffling under it’s breath, and when it finally stopped in front of him, he peeked under his unkept hair right when a metal bowl clattered on the ground, something unfamiliar sloshing within.

A second one was dropped, this time by Loki’s feet.

“Eat time, ya?” It said heavily, then turned and left, the door shutting hard, the footfalls retreating again.

Tony stared at Loki, face blank, eyes wide. Then he snorted and shook his head, moving to prod the bowl.

“What do you think is in it?” He said, face caught between morbidly interested and severely disgusted.

Loki sighed, picking up his own and the metal utensil to spear a purple piece of cooked meat, “In my experience, that is a question you will always regret hearing the answer to.”

Tony rumbled an uneasy agreement and Loki did not bother looking up from his own to know that when he heard a clatter Tony was attempting to consume his slop as well.


	15. In Which Tony Really Wants A Hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ ͡°)  
> Ho ho ho... things are about to get pretty steamy...  
> I had to cut this chapter in three... ;)

As it turned out, several hours later, a Loxodi diet was not nearly consumable enough for humanoids to digest comfortably. Loki himself had suffered little more than an unpleasant stomach ache, and so had withdrawn to a meditative state to quicken his recovery and not dwell on the slight pains.

It does not occur to him that humans would fare exceedingly worse.

This fact becomes abhorrently clear several hours later when Loki is drawn out of his reverie by a soft whimper. Tony sat across the room, slumped against the wall. His half lidded eyes flickered in surprise at the noise, startling himself. He struggled to sit up, and that was when Loki caught the gleam of sweat on his brow.

Loki is pushing himself up and off the wall before he can regret it, knowing instantly what this is. Most had never actually witnessed it, only read about it in studies or heard tell of it vaguely mentioned in passing stories. The _Sweating Tongue_ they called it. Sometimes an Asgardian warrior would stuff something inopportune into his mouth - shocking, truly - and would suffer the consequences as a nearly immortal body staved off the stupidity of past actions. The body would cleanse itself by pushing out the toxins through perspiration - hence sweating - that had been ingested - hence, tongue.

Loki, regrettably, had also suffered it before, once in his youth when some noble that looked unfavorably upon him snuck some poison into his drink during a banquet in Thor’s honor. Now that he looks back on it, it was less likely some quip of his own that had led to the attempt on his life, and more likely someone sore from losing to the golden child of Asgard in a tourney and seeking to punish him through Loki. One of the few instances where he supposed he had to be grateful for his inherently different physiology to Asgardians, for instead of dying, he dragged himself away from the party - no one noticed, save his mother, who Odin refused to let leave his side, insisting he simply wanted attention, no doubt - and then slipped into a terrible almost-not-quite-sleep where he thrashed and woke in fits for several months, overcome with a terrible burning in all his limbs. Whenever he woke, he could barely speak only to beg for sweet cold, and once, when the heat was nearly unbearable and he was incoherent, death. By the time he awoke fully and completely, he had been exhausted and drained, too weak to even leave his bed for another month as he recovered. He knew instantly that Tony Stark, left to his own mortal devices, would not survive it.

 _Left to his own mortal devices_. That was it, wasn’t it?

He walked over to the human to asses the situation. He wasn’t even sure what he could do without his magic. Or perhaps he had misdiagnosed and Stark would simply die. He stopped to stand over the man. Tremors were already wracking his body, fists clenched against them.

Loki tried not remember it. The pain had not been transcendental as far as pain goes - he had endured worse. But that had been the thing most deceptively awful about it - it was not too much to black out, not too little to ignore. It was too much to move, too little to distract completely. It was the heat that was the worst. It frayed your nerves but would not allow the cool respite of sleeping. In fact, Loki is fairly sure that if Tony fell asleep, he'd no doubt die.

Tony barely managed to tip his head up towards the god, regarding him with glazed eyes, brows drawn in pain, lips parted, sweat shining on his skin. Loki resigned himself to crouching beside him, an action that didn't even garner a twitch. Tony did not even bother to turn his head, his glassy gaze barely managing to follow Loki’s hand. He was not nearly as removed as he seemed, Loki knew, remembered the agony and the clarity with which he watched the world around him, unable to react, memorizing everything in a futile attempt to make up for the sudden lack of any other ability. He still isn’t sure how he managed to drag himself to one of the guest rooms to basically faint, but he's glad he didn't seize in the middle of the party. No doubt Thor would have thrown a tantrum that he was attempting to steal his well-earned attention. Because of course.

His hand brushed Tony’s forehead and then he laid his palm flat on the hot skin. Instantly Tony’s eyes fluttered and he arched into the touch. Yes, he was burning up. Loki believes that it technically a good sign - half the battle was the body attempting to fight it out. The other half was the body not killing itself in the process.

Loki is shocked when Tony begins to move, reaching out, clumsy and weak, but managing all the same. His arms come up around Loki’s neck, attempting to pull himself up or Loki down, the god cannot be sure. The only thing he can be sure of is that Tony does not succeed - he does not bend down and the human is far too weak to raise himself up more than a couple inches from the ground. His body shakes from the effort.

Without thinking he chides, “Stop that, reserve your strength.” he says, and Tony, recognizing the futility of his efforts or perhaps exhausted, sinks back down, although his arms are still loosely draped around Loki’s back, fingers clinging to Loki's cool skin. He shifts awkwardly, but does not deny the human this. What he would have given to have a frost giant at hand when he went through it - alone.

Anything. He would have given just about anything.

With a fractured sigh, he gives in to the meager idea that forms in his mind, disagreeable though it is.


	16. In Which Loki Makes The First Of Many Comparisons To Tony's Likeness To A Feline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waggles eyebrows excessively

He reaches up to unhook Tony’s hands - a small protesting whine and a weak resistance are all that he encounters - before setting the arms down, “Hush.” he says, standing up, hearing a petulant huff from below. He almost cracks a smile, even under extreme duress, Tony retained his personality. Loki is not amused by his personality so much as the fact that he holds on to it stubbornly. A key trait of his personality to be fair. He glanced down to see Tony’s fists curled again and his arm muscles clench with another spasm. “Stop that,” Loki says sharply, “It only hurts more. Relax your muscles. Don’t fight your body. It is trying its best.”

He gets no indication that Tony heard him, as he inspects the stone, but he knows he did. Remembers how sharp the world around him was when his eyes had been open, his ears uncovered.

He finds the least offensive patch of wall, thinking hard. _If_ the human is to survive this, then Loki will need to stay with him constantly - and probably not move for the duration of it. His back begins to ache even at the thought of it. But it was hardly out of his way to do this - he simply needed to be there, didn’t he? The good news - or good _conjecture_ , more appropriately - was that Loki believed that humans, so much more mortal, had bodies that developed at a rapid pace compared to his kin or Asgardians. What had taken Loki months would - hypothetically or hopefully - be far reduced. As reduced as a human lifespan was to his. Which was enormous.

There was also the fact that it had been a relatively meager amount of… meat? Broth? He couldn’t be sure what it was that had caused the reaction, but whatever it was, he could see now from Tony’s discarded bowl that he’d abandoned the attempt half way, and chunks of purple were still floating in the stew of his bowl. The only problem perhaps was that Tony was weak, and probably hungry. Loki frowned, wondering how much that might affect his chances.

It wasn’t as if he cared.

This wasn’t _empathy_ \- no, not even pity. Mostly. Perhaps a little. The human whimpered quietly again, eyes shut tight but muscles relaxed, and he bent down to smooth some of his mangy hair away from his face. Yes, Tony was, at this moment, pitiful. Perhaps not pathetic in the way he was used to thinking of the Avengers, but pathetic all the same. Like a bedraggled kitten.

The image of a small black kitten flashed in his mind before he dismissed it.

This was a means to an end, he told himself, the human would be indebted to him now. He brushed a thumb over the human’s forehead to wipe away from sweat and was rewarded with a breathy sigh.

He swallowed and then got comfortable beside the human, who instantly curled towards the cold that naturally emanated off his being. _How lucky_ , he thought, _that the only magic I can use is probably what’s most useful right now_. Loki nearly barked out a harsh laugh. _Luck_. The only luck he had ever known he’d had to carve out for himself, out of sweat and blood and unshed tears.

“Alright.” He said, bracing himself, “Come here.”

Under different circumstances he might have found it disconcerting how quickly Tony reacted to that, how little pause there was in his obeying.

There was no hesitation when Tony touched him.

And Loki knew why, of course - he didn’t have to remind himself of that unbearable warmth permeating his body, the constant torment that never let him slip fully into sleep, the paralysis of his limbs that never let him feel fully awake.

It had been torture - and Loki had suffered that before.

So he didn’t resist when Tony reached for him. And he did, with nearly reckless abandon. Tony pressed himself into any crevice of Loki that he could, feverish and not even thinking about it, just wanting to gain some respite from the heat.

Loki tried to ignore the slight flush of his cheeks as the human attempted steadfastly to eliminate any space between their bodies, very conscious that Stark was delirious and warm against him. It was almost hysterical, that he might need to resort to _Sweating Tongues_ in order for someone to want him this badly.

He coughed pointedly when Tony’s mouth opened against his neck.

He knew the human's throat and tongue would be the worst of the heat, concentrated agony.

But he wasn’t going to let the human _lick_ him. Most likely.

Well, he certainly had an effect on the human _now_ , he supposes.

Tony’s breath is hot against Loki’s neck, uncomfortable, tingling on his skin, but he doesn’t ignore Loki’s warning. He just shudders, aching for more, unable to obtain it. It is an odd sensation coupled with the pulsating pain of the magical collar also around his neck.

Loki can feel the trembling of a body beginning to give up. He curses under his breath. This human - this insufferable, loud, obnoxious human - will likely faint and die from the fever if he doesn’t do something more than this. Tony had settled in, arms clasped tightly around Loki’s torso, palms flat against his back, but it wasn’t enough. 

Loki flushes, then decides to go forward with it.

What was the human phrase - ‘in for a penny, in for a pound’? Well, he certainly expected something back for this. It wasn’t even Tony’s fault, and yet for lack of anyone else to complain about and the fact that Stark did plenty of other ridiculous things, Loki gave in furiously.


	17. In Which Tony Unabashedly Gets To Like, Third Base With Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _finally getting somewhere..._ *wink wink

“ _Stupid -_ ” He hisses, detaching his bracers, two light thumps as they hit the ground.

“ _Foolish -_ ” He shrugs off his coat, letting it stay as a cushion between him and the wall.

“ _ **humans**_.” He grinds out as he jerks open his shirt and then, for good measure, pulls that off, too.

Tony moans when their skin touches, Loki’s true temperature no longer contained by the stiff clothing he usually wore. He whimpers as he presses in, the relief of cold to his sweating body immediate and gratifying. The noises make Loki shiver, but he’s glad that Stark doesn’t notice it, couldn’t, over his apparent euphoria.

He simply hasn’t been with anyone for a long while.

That’s all.

That is all it is. Two bodies, one insistent, close, and his, hungry.

If Loki slipped off his pants this could quickly go somewhere else, probably a place neither of them would mind too much, provided Stark didn’t speak, not that he could in his present state. The idea of how much Tony might actually enjoy that makes Loki’s mind reel - the idea of how much _he_ might enjoy it makes his mind _burn_. But no - he doesn’t need the human to become angry at him and hold a vendetta latter if he thinks Loki took advantage of him while he was compromised - which would be exactly what he was doing.

And he cannot even think about the alternative - Tony becoming hurt out of rejection from Loki. But no, Tony was not that kind of person. Was he? He slept with many people, Loki was sure he’d picked up on that somewhere. Would he honestly care? Would he mind terribly if they…?

But when he looks down, Tony is half asleep, head on Loki’s shoulder, his hair curling under Loki’s chin, tickling slightly. HIs face is exhausted but serene. Loki is surprised by the simple grace of his features when he isn’t making a face - which was constantly. He’d never seen Tony’s expression when he was… at peace. He didn’t look like the same person with those fierce eyebrows drawn across his face.

Loki would never think that Tony was … _beautiful_ or any… no. He wouldn’t.

But for a moment Tony is… maybe a bit “endearing”.

Slightly.

Like a contented, dozing cat.

Really, he had to stop with these comparisons. 

Loki shifts slightly and Tony presses closer with a small murmur under his breath.

One arm, blue, he realizes with half annoyance, half surprise, gently lifts come around Tony’s back so his position is more secure, curled on top of the god.

Loki rolls his eyes.

At least Tony wouldn’t remember this in the morning, provided he survived.


	18. In Which Thor Again Proves A Useful Intermission From Loki And Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor's Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick shot at how all the Avengers are faring without that one guy who makes lots of sarcastic comments...

Thor arrived on Midgard to considerable fanfare - at least, compared to his previous visits. The first of which he ended up getting hit by Jane's car.

The inexplicable urge to see her increased dramatically even as the S.H.I.E.L.D. lead him towards their black cars. Not nearly as charming as Jane's own car, nor were their personalities in the least bit as enduring in his memory. Perhaps that was what Fury looked for in people, in any case. The unassuming, not the unconventional. Or perhaps not at the same time.

But Thor knew better than to visit her - so soon after Stark had been abducted, no less.

He could bear the thought of bringing her harm far less than the clench in his chest of not seeing her.

He contented himself with memories of her bright smile and her bubbling laughter for the duration of the trip, though they were paltry compared to the real thing, and he resolved to remedy that by seeing her once he was sure it was safe. He had to tuck away his thoughts of Jane upon entering Tony Stark's tower, though it was now devoid of its host, for the atmosphere was not nearly as conducive for the happy memories. In Stark's place were several upset Avengers, though their ways of showcasing their troubled minds varied, Thor soon observed.

The most - openly - concerned of all of them was perhaps Steve Rogers, though it was likely because this was one of few instances where he thought of Stark as purely a civilian as opposed to an annoying, indulgent, sarcastic billionaire. He paced so often that Thor wondered which would wear away first, his shoes or the floor. He knew that in Roger's place he would no doubt be reacting similarly, especially in an instance such as this where they had so limited leads.

Then there was Banner, who Thor knew was quite close to Stark as well as more adept at quelling emotions and thus seemed less perturbed than he actually was. He spoke in clipped syllables, as if he wasn't trusting enough of his emotions to speak, only mentioning the pure facts of Stark's abduction, never the feelings, never consequences. He did not seem to know where to look, one glance landing him on something that reminded him sharply of Stark's absence so that he would twist his gaze to something else.

After was Barton, but he was more concerned with the fact that none of them would likely be safe - specifically he and Natasha, since they were the only ones who were strictly bound to human abilities - and the fact that whomever had taken Stark possessed far more than that. He was on edge, sneaking ill-met, stress induced snarks and jokes here and there. _Worried_ , Thor realized after becoming annoyed, _That the man in the suit needs them and they are here, bickering about it_.

Then, of course, Natasha, who was twice as refined in her emotional shows as Banner and just as concerned about civilian Tony Stark as Rogers was. She spoke about Tony like a child, or lost a dog, wandering around or manipulated or weak. Thor would have gotten indignant on Stark's behalf - for all his faults, he was a great warrior and a sharp mind - but he recognized that when she spoke, she never once said his name. As if she was pretending it was someone else in danger. A target, a nameless, faceless person to save. Not the man who made quips about her hair length, who had a floor dedicated specifically to her needs before anyone else, who sometimes walked in on her and Pepper's lunches and even occasionally joined them.

Fury, despite expressing a lot of anger, didn't seem especially upset about Tony's well being as opposed to the situation as a whole.

"Get me some damn answers, people." was a common phrase that he threw around, and Thor was sure that if Stark had been around he'd have capitalized on it's uniqueness for bad impressions of the director, possibly while sporting a 'cheap Halloween pirate eyepatch' as Barton said with a forced, unsmiling laugh, whatever that was.

"What can you tell me?" Thor said when he entered the room where the Avengers - minus on playboy, billionaire, philanthropist - had assembled and found himself facing Rogers.

"Now I know this sounds crazy, but it was them aliens." Clint called out from the counter, "Done abducted him." he slurped on a milkshake loudly to end the point.

Missing the reference and wondering if Barton was going through a phase, Thor turned to Natasha who readily added, without pause, "That's why we need you. Come on, we'll show you where it happened. Jarvis -?"

And then there was Jarvis, the most upset of all of them, the intelligence system answered immediately, "Yes Miss Romanov - early on May 14th, at 8:17 am, Tony Stark was on the twelfth floor, on his third attempt to make an omelette. He had just put it on the flame when my systems blacked out and all machinery not only under my control but within a 200 foot radius went out for approximately 23 minutes 46 seconds 12 milliseconds. When the facilities rebooted, Tony Stark was gone and a strange device of apparent alien origin was left in his place. You were contacted when we could not determine its function and hoped you would reveal or at the very least recognize something useful. We have no leads at present."

At this point they had made it to the twelfth floor kitchen - or what remained. The kitchen itself seemed relatively untouched. Thor was assured it had been a mess, but of the baking variety - Tony was a better astrophysicist than he was cook, apparently. The wall facing the kitchen, however, was a different matter.

"You can see why we're worried about him, he's probably hurt." Romanov said shortly to Thor as they all stood, staring at the massive hole to open air. Something had ripped steel from steel, concrete from concrete, electric, live wire from electric, live wire, then made it out into broad daylight, unseen and untraceable, all apparently within the 23 minutes that Jarvis had been unable to operate.

"The alien device is in the lab." Banner said pensively, "Come on." perhaps staring at the hole was too reminiscent of the kind of damage the hulk could cause, so they all obliged. 

There was nothing left to see here anyways.


	19. In Which Tony Is An Over/Unappreciative Little Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I kind of just planned to let this fic die since I'm dedicated to writing stuff for Dragon Age and I didn't want anyone reading this to get false hope for more Avenger stuff from me.
> 
> But I was going through my old stories and I still have some stuff written for this and... I don't know if I'll ever finish this but I can still post what I have, right? Might as well end some people's suffering and really, better to try and finish it sooner than later rather than have a forever unfinished fic. So...
> 
> I'm sorry you have all been waiting so long if you liked this fic. I just felt like continuing it was like... false advertising or something. Can't really explain why. Probably I also ran into some writer's block because ain't that just the way. But... now I kind of want to finish it for closure and etc. because I had a semi-decent plan for it... to some point at least. 
> 
> You guys didn't even get to see them bicker as almost-maybe boyfriends! And really that's kind of shameful on my part. So without further ado here's a little tidbit as I supposedly resume this story. Who knows how much more it'll go, but at least it's something.

When Tony blinked, he came to consciousness with a vague feeling of…crustiness. As if he’d been doused in something sticky and left to dry somewhere and now he was breaking out of a thin layer of sweat. 

It was unpleasant to say the least.

A real godamn, motherfucking bummer to say _not_ the least.

“Ugh.” he grunts, putting out his hands to lever himself up when he feels the signature experience of flesh peeling away from flesh. After a moment of blankness in his mind he turns his head, ever so slightly to see that… yup. He was laying on Loki.

And for some reason, Loki was sans shirt. Not that Tony was going to say he _minded_.

It was just surprising, was all.

Loki stirred, apparently beginning to wake at Tony’s movements. With a pained grunt as his muscles cried out in sore agony, Tony levered himself off the god and rolled just partially painfully onto his back.

He coughed, as Loki, coming to, grunted and started to sit up. “Hey.” He said, waggling his eyebrows, “Not that I wanna imply anything was forgettable about last night but… did I miss anything?”

Loki turned to give him an unimpressed stare, snorting before he retrieved his clothes, laying on his other side. “You nearly died.”

“And sleeping on a god is remedy for that? Well I guess I knew Jane was keeping Thor around for _some_ reason.”

Tony grinned wider when he saw Loki trying not to smile, though his next words threw him off-guard. 

“You had food poisoning and… a fever. If you hadn’t been kidnapped and imprisoned with an ice elemental, your body would have overheated and you would have perished in agonizing spasms.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment Loki must thought he had actually shocked Tony.

Silly god.

“Awww… Loki I just _knew_ we had that special something!” Tony began to gush, which made Loki groan.

Tony couldn’t help the pervasive smile, though. Despite the fact that he physically felt like absolute shit.

Even when a bracer was thrown at him when he asked for a snuggle.

He couldn't stop smiling.

And what was better was that that seemed to piss Loki off more.


	20. In Which Thor Provides Useful Plot Developing Information To The Avengers

"This is definitely of alien origin, from Muspelheim possibly, some of the Beast-kin dwell there, and this is one of their baser scripts." Thor says when he picks the large, rounded artifact up. It was made out of a cool black stone and glowing blue inscriptions stayed on, never flickering or waning.

"Okay, but what's it do? Is Loki still doing time, because he's the only alien _I_ know who wants to get at any of us." Natasha said smoothly.

"Loki is... regrettably...missing. But this does not seem like him. Mind games, those he loves to play. Having people ostracize those closest to them before disappearing, or being possessed to do great harm to others, that is how Loki would target Stark. He might have been able to knock all of the electrical appliances within a certain range, but the wall? No, Loki would not be capable nor excited by that."

"Loki is out? Crap on a stick is he coming back here?" Clint said in distress, milkshake in hand but all but forgotten.

Thor hesitated, then decided it was better known, at least, "The Loki you met was not himself. He was under another's control with the use of the tesseract, as you call it. His hostility was not all another's, however, and you should not trust him if you see him. But no, I do not believe Loki would willingly return to earth. This place would remind him too strongly of his time being dominated by another's will."

"Okay, so it's not Loki. I don't know of any other aliens we've pissed off enough for this kind of action." Rogers said doubtfully, "And you still haven't told us what that is. Do you not know?"

Thor thoughtfully looked at the stone device in his hand before setting it down, "It's a Bvhavdg. A communication device controlled by the captors. They left it here to tell you exactly what they want when they want."

Clint's loud slurping halted, cut off by a slight choking noise, and Natasha patted him on the back to help reduce the coughing. 

Banner asked what they were all thinking, "They want a _ransom_ for Tony?"


	21. In Which Tony Eventually Annoys Loki Into Thinking About A Plan Of Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki POV

"So." Tony said conversationally a while after Loki woke up from an impromptu nap.

A nap that may or may not have had to do with bringing a human back from the brink of death. Only a little nap. Inconsequential at best. He hadn't _really_ needed it. That much. 

He's surprised Tony didn't wake him up earlier to subject him to forced conversation. 

"Ah, he speaks. What torture will you now submit my ears to?" Loki wondered, though his voice wasn't laden with its usual acid. Unfortunately, it seems Stark can tell the difference, and decides this is an excellent time to push more than usual.

Wonder of wonders.

"Touchy, touchy. I was just curious. About that whole 'Ice magic you shouldn't do but whoops you did it. Again'. That's twice, now, right? Your other magic stuff must be coming up on a whooping zero appearances made. Unless that wasn't you fainting before that was just you 'astral-projecting'."

"I didn't  _faint._ " He snapped, "I was resting." Obviously Stark was incapable of telling the difference.

"I poked you in the face. Twice."

Loki grimaced, "Of course you did. Give me back my bracer."

Tony just made a face at him, by which point Loki realized his bracer was back on his arm. Stark must have put it on him while he was sleeping.

"I was  _tired._ " He snapped, "Mostly because of you."

"Right, but past that point, fainting thing isn't even that relevant now, I'm mostly interested in the part where you turn blue."

Loki gave a warning growl.

Stark's penchant for tugging on his most base desires to rip a mortal's spine out through their throats was really a special ability all his own. He can't imagine how he thought the stupid creature before him once resembled a kitten. At least he did not feel the urge to throw kittens at the wall.

Tony put up his hands in appeasement, "Right. Okay, you don't like to talk about it, I get it. Not sure why, not gonna ask. For now. Point being that seems to be our ticket out of here for now, because it's not like I'm much use any other way, and with your pretty necklace, you're not gonna be doing much else."

"Listen to your own words. We are not going to be escaping, Jotun magic or not." Loki said, going, ineffectually, for indifference.

"Sure." Tony said, unimpressed, "Remind me about how much your brother loves both of us and would be willing to go to any length to make sure we get out of here?"

That was... true. Loki was not willing to wait around and see if he was worth anything to Thor. But that was more because he would be greeted with about the entirety of Asgard's army in that event, and he would not wait around to trade one jail cell for another, no matter how gilded the new cage.

"Then you assume I'm willing to take you with me in the event that I escape." Loki snarled.

"You're right, silly me, why would you bother doing that it's not like you've healed me twice now, what was I thinking." Tony said dryly, mockingly putting a hand to his face in shock.

Perhaps the reason it made Loki want to wring his neck was because it was true. No matter what he said, he'd obviously taken too many pains, done too much with the intent to save the infuriating mortal, and it would ultimately be stupid in the event that he escaped to willingly leave Stark behind at this point. 

"Then what? Jotun magic doesn't lend itself well to a hostage situation in a cramped cell. It is made for open warfare and the joining of magics."

"Meaning?" Tony pressed, thankfully being less abrasive to Loki's nature. For the moment.

" _Meaning_ that it gets progressively stronger the more casters there are involved. And if you look around carefully, even a dimwitted creature such as yourself might be able to deduce that I am the only one in this room capable of magic in _any_ form, let alone Jotun magic."

"Anything is bound to get stronger the more people are involved." Tony responded, "But, again this is just a dimwitted creature talking so excuse any incapabilities on my part, Jotun magic doesn't require many extraneous materials, right? It is purely based on the spirit of the caster and their capabilities, none of the outside forces or factors that would otherwise play a vital part in another family of magic. Those can just be used to supplement it."

There is a beat of silence punctuated only by the steady drip of a leaky pipe somewhere.

"How did you know that." Loki murmured quietly.

"I know this is shocking, Loki, but you literally told me most of that. Remember, Magics 101, Things That Would Get Past The Collar? Number 3 Will Really Surprise You!"

"You fell asleep." Loki said in half disbelief.

" _No_ , I closed my eyes. _You_ fell asleep after you healed me but you're still in denial about that so lets just skip to the important part. Can you do Jotun magic to a reasonable degree without being incapacitated by the collar?"

Loki was beginning to get fed up, "We went over this, Stark, yes, to a _certain_ extent. But nothing strong enough on my own to disrupt the collar _or_  get us out of here."

"Yeah, that collar is something else. If I had one of my kits I could probably get it off of you, but doesn't seem like I could find a toothpick in this place, let alone Stark Industry grade welding tools. That's not the point though." Stark sat up, eyes bright with an idea.

Despite his anger with the human, Loki can feel his foul mood beginning to fade, if only because the talk of magic is instinctually calming to him. It has nothing to do with Stark. Nothing at all. That the human is, at this moment, a conduit for something that Loki finds comforting doesn't mean anything special about Stark, just that the human had off-set his wrath for some future time.

"What? What is it?" He hissed.

  
"Can you communicate? Can you reach someone else using Jotun magic?"

Loki frowned, considering, "The amount of energy that would require is... I don't know that I could supply it on my own."

  
"And what if you used me as a secondary power foci?"

Loki narrowed his gaze, though this time any fault lay with him. He had kept talking about magical framework long after Stark had closed his eyes. It was his own fault for assuming the mortal hadn't been listening. Mapping out his capabilities with the collar had been helpful for himself, so he hadn't thought to consider it was relevant information to both of them, he had simply continued talking aloud is all.

"You would provide a very poor amount of energy Stark, not only are you human and completely without magic, but it's not as if you're in your strongest state."

"Any way you could teach me the fundamentals of magic?" Stark said hopefully.

At that he gave one small burst of laughter, "HA! No, Stark, magic does not work like that. We would need a considerable amount of time for anyone to teach you magic, and that's ignoring the fact that you're _you_."

"Pity." Tony said with an indifferent shrug, "But I could still help, right? It wouldn't be a _negligible_ difference in power."

Loki hesitated. A part of him was loathe to admit just how weak he was currently, and more than that he did not want to use Jotun magic again, but mostly he did not want Stark to think his plan was good, because then he would be completely impossible to deal with thereafter.

"I could only reach other spell-casters, Stark. And none of your precious Avengers - nor Thor, especially - fall under that description."

"What about -" Stark snapped his fingers, "Frigga, that's your mentor, right? Could she contact the Avengers after that?"

"Figga? She's my... yes. My mentor." Loki had to stop himself from the almost involuntary title he had used for her most of his life. He considered that. To tell Frigga meant he might as well tell Odin or Thor, and that was the opposite of what he wished to do, because again, an army at his doorstep. Unless... hmm... Frigga might not actually tell Odin. She'd certainly be open to letting him escape, he thinks, if he acts accordingly. She had never wanted him imprisoned, and he could use that.

"It could work. Possibly." He managed finally.

"Wow, no condescension or belittling, careful Loki, you're losing your edge." Tony chuckled from across the room.

"Please, if you could spare me your inane talking, I might actually be able to focus on the task at hand." Loki said, to preoccupied with the complications of the spell.

Tony smiled, gleeful as a cat that had gotten the mouse, and settled comfortably against the corner wall where he sat watching Loki reason out the beginnings of a plan to escape.

Loki was careful to displace the inkling of hope beginning to form in his chest.

But it was hard to think there was much chance for failure when Frigga was involved. Perhaps, despite all trepidation in his chest... he was excited... in some unquantifiable form or another... at the prospect of speaking to her again.

And yet perhaps he was hopeful.

Just a _little_.

And that _certainly_ had nothing to do with _Stark_.


	22. In Which Thor Yet AGAIN Proves An Invaluable Asset To Plot Progression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor POV

There was an awkward silence after that. “And what… what exactly would that ransom be?” Natasha finally managed.

Thor considered the Bvhadg thoughtfully, giving a shrug, “It could be anything, something important that S.H.I.E.L.D. possess, perhaps an ancient artifact or knowledge.” He hesitated, but shook his head.

“But… but what, Thor? What else would they ask for?” Rogers said, noticing the motion.

“In all likelihood,” Thor said casually, “They will probably ask for Midgard.”

Another silence fell over the room.

“Sorry. Earth, that is what you call it, yes?” He amended after a moment.

“We know what you meant by Midgard, Thor.” Clint said in aggravation, “We’re just trying to process the statement as a whole.”

“Well, it is not uncommon for War-races to abduct royalty and try to gain control of entire systems through ransom. In fact it is fairly common, although most of the universe, sorry, does not see Midgard as worth pursuing. Loki promised the Chitauri something similar in exchange for their services, no doubt.”

The silence was growing very long indeed.

“Why…” Clint finally managed, “ _Why_ is the fact that the aliens apparently think Tony is _royalty_ somehow the most surprising thing that’s come out of your mouth?”

Thor chuckled, “They are Beast-kin, Barton. They are not exactly intelligent. Look at the wall, it is not the work of an intelligent kidnapper.” He frowned, picking the Bvhadg back up. “Although usually they have more in the way of a ransom when they do so.”

“So they _won’t_ be asking for Earth?” Barton asked hopefully.

“I do not know.” Thor answered pensively, a thought suddenly apparent in his mind.

He threw the Bvhadg to Banner, who caught it and appraised it, “Your sensors will tell you when it begins to generate extra light. That will tip you off as to when they are ready to send their message.” He turned sharply on his heel. Perhaps he could ask Heimdall if he had seen anything that could lend any clues. 

“Why have they taken so long, then?” Natasha called out after him.

“Probably because they are waiting to see if he survives imprisonment.” He called back, “Tell me if it explodes, won’t you?”

“Why?” Rogers said, following him up the stairs, back to the kitchen.

Thor sighed, raising Mjolnr when he reached the hole in the wall, which conveniently lead to open air. What thoughtful Beast-kin. “Well, you don’t have to worry about the ransom anymore.” He replied shortly.

There was a more pressing problem, though.

He seems to remember Loki escaping under mysterious circumstances. They had thought he had simply bribed another prisoner to free him, to weaken the light shields that kept all prisoners active.

But a Beast-kin or two could smash a Mana repulsing light shield with ease and take the God without trouble.

After all, a destroyed light shield and a deactivated one were the same - there was simply nothing there.

Perhaps Asgard had been tiptoeing since Loki’s escape for no reason. 

Perhaps Loki hadn’t escaped at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint, probably, "I _still_ can't believe someone thinks Tony is royalty."
> 
> Loki, probably, "Really? Tony does. No wonder they got the wrong impression. He's the one that probably told them he was royalty in the first place."


	23. In Which Loki And Tony Make Plans And Discuss Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, against all odds.......almost getting along?? What!!
> 
> Loki POV

Loki spends the next several hours sifting through his memories for options on every possible shortcut in terms of generating the necessary amount of power without killing or otherwise severely harming one of them.

He sits meditatively, and somehow, blissfully, Tony manages to keep quiet for this time. Occasionally he opens an eye to peek, fervently wondering if Tony is asleep. It seems not. He merely sits with his back to the wall, contemplating his hands. They are not empty. He’s found something to occupy them. Of course. No doubt it is the outlet for his erratic need to always be in motion, and the only thing blessedly saving Loki from another aggravating conversation. Tony is slumped against the wall, his hands in his lap. On another man it would be the very picture of defeat. Yet the expression on Tony’s face is pensive - thoughtful, twirling the stick it appears he found.

Loki ends up watching him for too long. He forgets the equations and plans that had been floating in his head as he watches. The motion of the plaything is somewhat hypnotic, and Loki finds himself calming more than he did with the meditation.

It is only once the fingers stop that Loki tenses and his gaze flicks up to Tony’s face, which is turned towards him.

“Hey there. Any updates or do you need more time to gaze lovingly at yours truly?”

Loki don’t answer, and a thundering sound of footsteps relieves him of the need to answer Tony or find an excuse for his staring.

A metal sliding panel in the door is unlocked and pushed to the side with a soft screech, and two small, beady eyes squint at them.

Loki nearly breaks down in tears when Tony gives the creature a cheeky wave. 

Luckily, aside from probably assuming it’s a nervous twitch, the the panel slides back into place and after a few tense moments, the thundering footsteps recede.

“I hate you.” He hisses softly towards Tony, who is smiling thinly.

“Aw, Loki, I know you don't mean that. But really. Has the sitting session helped you learn anything or are you waiting for me to remind you that we’re trying to escape.”

Loki sneers, “I was putting together the logistics of the spell and giving you time to recover from nearly dying. Again. You’ll need all the energy you can.”

“And I don’t suppose the sitting is helping you recover any energy? Unless you’re planning on ‘resting’ some more.”

“The collar is constantly sapping my strength.” Loki snapped, “So every moment I wait is not helping me recover any energy, no. But I will need to wait for you to be as strong as possible because only one of us is so weak that the spell might actually kill him. And if you aren’t aware, I’m still a god.”

Somehow, the look of smugness had melted off Stark’s face to be replaced with consternation.

“Well what are we waiting for, we need to go. I can do it.”

“ _ **No**_.” Loki barely restrained himself from snarling, “You can’t. You’ll need at least a day to be anywhere near something resembling “full” strength.”

“We can’t afford to wait, Loki. I know you’re used to living for hundreds of years, but we’re kinda limited to hundreds of seconds or minutes right now. You’re getting weaker and I’m not gonna get any stronger because newsflash, the food they’re feeding us makes me literally want to die.”

Loki curled his hands into fists, but didn’t say anything. Tony was right. They were only going to get weaker as time progressed, and past a certain point he wasn’t going to be capable of even _casting_ the spell, let alone maintaining it.

“I need to do something first.” Loki said quietly.

“Oh?” Came the cheekiest of one-word responses.

“Get some sleep if you can.” Loki murmured, refusing to rise to the bait, “I’ll wake you when it is time."

Unfortunately, that seemed to get _more_ of Stark’s attention. He sat up, quirking his head.

“You alright? Talking like that makes me feel like you’re either going to die _or_ you’re planning to slit my throat in my sleep.”

“Killing you sacrificially _would_ probably generate enough energy for me to escape, “ Loki agreed, “But I’m saving that for last resort.”

“How kind.” Tony said, failing to fully met out sarcasm. He sounded almost grateful.

Loki quirked an eyebrow at him with a thoughtful almost-smile.

And then immediately scowled when Tony scooted closer.

“Please don’t.” He started.

“No, no, what are you doing. What do you need to do?”

“I need to divine where we are. In the galaxy. It is a small spell but it will take an inordinate amount of energy considering the….limited resources available. Contacting someone is useless if I cannot tell them where we are.”

“What does that entail?”

Loki paused a moment to appreciate how efficiently Tony could abandon his incessantly annoying personality when it suited him. 

“It is a simple spell. It barely even requires any of the Song to function - “

“The Song?”

Loki frowned. This had not been a time he was planning to explain the intricacies of magic, even if it was a simple scrying spell. He needed Tony to rest and himself to… plan. And actually cast the spell. While still able.

Yet he wasn’t furious at the mortal. Perhaps having a plan was causing him some measure of peace to the point not even Stark could cause him annoyance without at least trying.

“The Song is a type of spell, I suppose you would call it. Linking every Jotun by blood and spirit. It exists in multiple layers of… reality, and on one layer it is best described as a sound - a tune. The name is a simplification of what it is - the sound itself is generated as a result of a successful spell, rather than a conduit of the spell itself, in most cases. I need the Song for this spell in order to signal Jotunheim, the home world, to act as… as a beacon. So that I can know where we are in relation to it, and then figure out a vague location from there.”

“What about in relation to Earth? If they’re planning to get Earth in the trade, I assume they’re stashed nearby.” Tony offered thoughtfully.

Loki shook his head, “I would not expect so - they wouldn’t want to be too close if Migardians were the type to destroy their own planet to avoid capture. Normally I’d look in relation to Asgard, even. Besides that… I couldn’t use the Song for a connection to those planets, and therefore couldn’t use a magic that avoids the limitations of the collar.” He said, tapping the device around his neck as he did so.

Tony tilted his head, “So you’re adapting another spell to fit the modifications of a Jotun spell so that the collar doesn’t restrict it?”

Loki paused, “Well… of course. I’m not familiar with Jotun magic beyond instinct, and the Song is exactly that much. Crude. As I said before.”

“And doing it this way will affect the amount of energy needed…how much?”

Loki frowned, “Normally in such a scrying spell you’d have a foci. An object which you’re linking to the pull of whatever planet or star in order to determine location. It is usually inherently magical and ends up essentially powering the spell by itself. Normally the amount of power is miniscule. Enough that the item could be linked to the location indefinitely and be used constantly as a compass. But we have no such anchors, nor anything even remotely suitable. It means there is a definite lack of control over what I’m connecting to without a foci.”

“Would a…piece of chalk be a possible foci?” Tony said, pulling the stick out of his pocket and holding it up.

“A piece of…what?” Loki said, knowing full well the answer was no.

Tony demonstrated, putting it on the stone floor between them and drawing out a small smiley face.

Loki stared at it.

“Ha ha. Joke. To lighten the mood. Never mind.” Tony said after a time.

“Where did you find that?”

Tony passed it to him, “Uh… I had it. In my pocket. From an endeavor several hours before the whole kidnapping debacle. I like to use chalk boards for inspiration and idea planning. I like to get into it and besides, it’s way more charming to show guests. What _I’m_ curious to know is how you escaped chalk. I guess it’s not in wide use outside of kindergarten. Say, do you know how to operate an iPad?”

Loki turned it over in his hands, “My integration with midgardian culture has been somewhat limited. I know much either through questioning those that I… had a degree of interaction with -“

“Mind-controlled. Go on.”

“- Or from simple context. The clothes and toys may change, but society - and political machinations - those are somehow always the same. Even beyond race.”

There was silence for a moment. 

He handed it back to Tony, “No, it would not make a good foci. Durability is key to such items, and the chalk is designed to crumble as part of it’s function. But it will be useful for other spells. I had planned to use our blood to write out anything, and indeed, blood would be stronger, but it might harm us more than wanted.”

“So in order to channel the location of the planet, the foci has to be strong?”

“…No. Especially if I am not planning to inscribe it with a link to Jotunheim indefinitely, which I am not. But it will probably be too small and fragile for the spell itself… and specific materials channel magic better than others. Things born of the living - or even the living themselves, inherently magical items, or items linked to an element key to the spell - such as ice. Chalk offers no substantial benefit that would make me consider using it when it could have other purposes to us."

Tony nodded.

“Use me.”

Loki frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Use me to help… channel the spell or whatever.”

Loki chuckled, “No.”

“Why not? I’m living, aren’t I? That’s got to benefit the spell, _and_ at the very least partially power _or_ help you control the spell, right?”

Loki swallowed. Why not? It took pressure off him and it’s unlikely Stark would die from a scrying spell - if he _did_ then Loki probably wouldn’t have been able to save him anyways.

So why was he adamantly against this?

He frowned, thinking as Tony watched him expectantly.

The answer was simple, of course. Shameful and weak though it was. It was the same reason he’d wanted Tony to sleep while he cast the spell.

He hadn’t wanted Tony to see him under the influence of Jotun magic again.


	24. UPDATE: BAD NEWS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story is gone

I have spent about 5 hours trying to find out why I can't find the file with this story written on it. I went in to notes today to see if I could get an update posted, and it's gone. I tried restoring the notes, but Time Machine (on my mac) for some reason won't go past January 2nd, 2018. Why. I know I have backups long before that. Why can't I go past the 2nd. Why am I limited to a week? It doesn't make sense and I've been digging through the internet trying to find out why. Also been trying to find any other backups, but it seems like notes decided to sync to something, and wherever the deleted story about Loki and Tony is, it went missing from everywhere else too.

I'm...pretty upset right now. Very discouraged. It doesn't seem fully real - I've seen that story so many times, looked at it so much. It doesn't make sense that it's suddenly done. Nothing else seems to be missing (not that I'd know, I guess. I didn't even realize it was gone until today). I don't see how I can finish this story if everything is gone - I had the ending completely done. That was really the only reason I was willing to keep working on it ...

If anyone knows how or why Time Machine won't function past a week, and can help me go back, that would be great.

This is all fairly heart-breaking.

I just...don't really understand.

But it's 4 am and I have work in a couple hours so...

guess that's it for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think when I get over the shock and pain of this, maybe one day i will continue this story and complete it. Sure, it will be completely different because it's been so long and i dont remember anything.
> 
>  
> 
> for now im going to mope and be depressed
> 
>  
> 
> **EDIT: So, I already got over the moping and most of the being depressed. Though I might never know what happened, I've accepted that what I wrote is probably gone. That said, I don't think I will just abandon this story. It will just be slow going (er....slower going) as I re-write the ending. Unfortunately, when I went to check the story, I was also planning to catch myself up on what I wrote but...as it's gone I can't. I don't know if it's better or worse that I don't remember. On one hand a lot was lost and that's always sad. On the other hand I've lost writing before and somehow trying to re-write something based off the small amount of memories you have of it usually results in a sad piece of writing.**
> 
> **In terms of an update to tech related aspect of the issues... Time Machine in all likelihood deleted the backups. When I checked, _and I know I had older back ups because I used Time Machine before_ it said there were no current back ups and that older backups would be deleted as space got used up. It was _supposed_ to tell me after any backups got deleted, but I got no such notifications so...a mystery there. Also a mystery as to how the note got deleted but no real use puzzling away at that one.**
> 
> **I found the "database" files that are supposed to contain records of my notes (whether or not the story is in them I can't say for certain, these were the files I was trying to recover via Time Machine when I discovered it wouldn't let me go past Jan 2).**
> 
> **I tried multiple things - firstly to make copies of those files and fake-convert them to html and open them in a window browser. Two of the three were just gibberish, and one actually translated to text (though riddled with symbols and stuff). I went through it, but there's a _lot_ of writing in all my notes so though I didn't see anything about Tony n Loki, it could possibly be there. **
> 
> **I ended up downloading something called sqlife (which isn't apparently a brand name) and can open one of the original database files in it. The other two won't open in it, but though I can see .... I don't know what. It's not the stories themselves but there are tables and it seems to imply that it has information stored. I had used it in the hopes that if the story was there I could get a version not riddled with symbols. As it is now, however, none of it is...words. It's numbers, I guess you could say.**
> 
> **I'm just saying this on the off chance anyone who knows what the heck database files are and how to possibly convert them (besides the fake html way) could tell me? They're obviously meant to store info, and more than that seemingly have something to do with coding or formatting or I don't know what. I just want to write stories I didn't really sign up for all of that...womp womp.**
> 
> **In the meantime I think... I think I may try to focus on re-writing/continuing the story.**
> 
> **Don't know when an update will happen. Before I was obviously terrible at updating and that was when I _had_ a bunch of stuff written.**


End file.
